


After The Apocalypse

by blakmorte



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakmorte/pseuds/blakmorte
Summary: After the armagedidn'thappen an angel and a demon go back to the bookshop for their first evening of the saved world. Feelings come out and...





	After The Apocalypse

After the Apocalypse

Crowley pushed Aziraphale roughly against the bookshelf, clutching the angel’s bow tie and waistcoat firmly in hand. For the first time in six-thousand years he felt like no one was watching, like no demon, or angel, or man would appear to interrupt their alone time. They’d stopped the apocalypse after all, and managed to fool the powers-that-be. They were both alive, and he felt it now, suddenly, as the sun set behind them. The closed sign perched quietly on the door.

Aziraphale was startled, of course, but also intrigued. “Mind the books, My Dear...” Allowing himself to be pressed up against his beloved antique books, he reached up and pulled Crowley’s sunglasses off. “No need for these. No use hiding when it’s just the two of us.”

Crowley gritted his fangs before pressing his lips snugly to Aziraphale’s. The angel reciprocated happily. He curled his arms around the demon’s neck. How long had he even wanted this? He didn’t realize he had. Not until his back met the shelf behind him. It must have been centuries… millenia even.

They kissed there as the sun moved lower, the first sunset of the new age. They had spent many a sunset together, the first as a storm poured down over Eden, and now as the first ethereal coupling began.

Crowley’s forked tongue was as hot as hellfire, and Zira couldn’t get enough of it. He used all of his strength to pull them as close together as he could without causing a miracle. His plump frame grew warmer and warmer, loving the feel of the serpent almost spiraling around him. It was Crowley’s demonic energy, he knew, but it felt like his whole being. This was all getting to be too much.

Aziraphale nudged Crowley away, both panting hotly. The angel’s cheeks were flushed to his ears. He set the demon’s sunglasses on the bookshelf behind him, never taking his eyes off of the Crowley’s yellow irises. “I have a bed,” the angel said in a whisper. Heaven, he’d tried to kill a boy only yesterday, so he was sure there would be more he could surprise himself with.

“It’s about time…!” Crowley gasped. “I’ve waited an eternity for you to say that.”

In moments they were upstairs in Aziraphale’s flat, the cozy bed made up with blue and cream quilts and pillows. The demon all but threw his angel onto those very pillows and pressed urgent kisses to his lips again. Aziraphale didn’t hesitate to assist the ginger into removing his waistcoat and bow tie. The demon was well versed in buttons after all of these centuries and had the blond’s shirt undone as well.

“Damn this tie!” Crowley shouted, pulling off the grey scarf around his neck and throwing it off into the room. Shortly it was followed by his own waistcoat and jacket. “All of this shit just gets in the way!”

Aziraphale had lost control of his hands by this point and without his consent they were unfastening the black snake belt his demon wore. It too was discarded somewhere off of the bed. Again the demon kissed him and they held it passionately as the sun lost its final rays to the horizon.

“Our corporeal forms, Dear...” the angel breathed. “Do you know…?”

“Of course, I know, Angel, I’m a demon after all.”

Zira tapped his lips against Crowleys. “Then don’t damage me too badly.”

“I did that centuries ago.”

The demon seemed to be an expert, in fact. The blond’s trousers didn’t stand a change against his razor-sharp fangs. There was the hellfire again, and Zira could do nothing but grip the pillows beneath is head and gasp loudly while the snake tasted him to his core. He knew human bodies had their perks, food for example, but this was one he’d never explored. And why would he? Angels and demons had no need to reproduce, and none had ever felt lust. That was for humans, and an unforgivable sin. He had felt love many times, though. More times than he was willing to admit was love for Crowley.

“Maybe we shouldn’t…?” Aziraphale questioned.

“Maybe we should.” Crowley said frankly. “Whose to stop us anyway?”

“You’ve tempted me too far and… I’m afraid I won’t be able to turn back.”

“Falling isn’t so bad, Angel. Besides, I don’t think She would punish you.”

“It’s not God that I’m worried about.”

“Gabriel? Well fuck him! He ain’t your boss no more.”

“I’m not so sure...”

“I’m trying to be serious here, Angel. Don’t think about Gabriel. I won’t be thinking about Beelzebub. There’s no one here but us. And that’s all I want here.”

“Me too. I only want to think about you.”

“Then I’ll make it impossible for you to think about anyone else.”

Crowley didn’t move the slits of his pupils from the blue globes of the precious being below him, as he finally took what he’d wanted all of those years. And Aziraphale gave it to him gladly.

No one could hear the angel’s soft moans. They never made it farther than the ears of his treasured demon. They moved close and hungrily with each other. No holy covenant could separate them in this, their love. No holy water could douse the flame they’d made together.

Aziraphale gripped the headboard roughly. “Crowley… I don’t know if I can take.. anymore!”

Crowley gripped those cherub thighs. “Hell, Angel, I don’t… I don’t know if I can either.”

A miracle happened then. It was a miracle that neither of them created. They’d both gotten a second wind out of nowhere and they found that they could take as much as they needed. It had been too long. This tension had risen and fallen over and over, and tonight it had reached its peak and broke. They broke, and now they belonged not to Heaven or Earth, not to Hell, or Alpha Centauri, but to each other. They didn’t need anything or anyone else.

Aziraphale lie surrounded by his plush bedding. His eyes were wide as he caught his breath. His palm was pressed against his forehead. Crowley laid comfortably beside him against the headboard, stroking his spindly fingers across his angel’s arm.

“Angel, you look worried.”

“I’m going to be in so much trouble!”

“No you won’t.” Crowley responded, exasperated.

“I thought the whole stopping the antichrist thing was bad… This is worse! I’m in so much trouble!”

“Listen, Angel.” The cherubim being lowered his arm and looked at his imp. “If you didn’t get in trouble for giving away the flaming sword, I don’t think your other flaming sword will make one bit of a difference.”

Aziraphale broke out in shocked giggles. “That is foul!” He continued to giggle. “How I even knew what you meant…? You’ve corrupted me, My Dear.”

“And you’ve purified me, Angel. Let’s sleep.” He pulled him close to him, snuggling him close. “And if that bastard Gabriel cares about this, well then he can go fuck himself and the cloud he rode in on.”


End file.
